‘How?’
‘You set your intention, and then you blink.’
‘Just like that?’
He nods. I visualise my hotel room in mortal Shanghai. And blink.
I’m still in the cave. ‘Are you sure there isn’t something else I’m supposed to do?’
Lord Black cocks his head. ‘It’s second nature to me. Let me see. I think of where I want to go. And blin—’
Lord Black disappears. And then reappears again.
‘That’s strange.’ He grabs my face, peers again into my eye. ‘Mmm.’ Without warning, he smacks me on the head. ‘There we go.’
‘Hey!’
He ignores me, pokes the side of my eye, and then lets me go. I totter backwards.
‘Try again.’
‘Give a girl a little warning. There’s no need to manhandle me.’
‘Try again,’ he says, ignoring my complaints.
I visualise the hotel room. And blink.
Twenty-Eight
Back and Forth
The shift is lightening quick – I’m back in my hotel room, standing in the doorway between the sitting room and bedroom where I last glimpsed Mr Lee. The jade must have worked, he must be alright. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. It’s the only thread of hope I have. I steady myself against the door frame. My head spins and bile coats my tongue. This realm shifting will take some getting used to.
Two strangers sit at the table by the window, surrounded by books and the remnants of breakfast.
‘Who are you?’ I ask.
The woman looks up and screams. The man jumps to his feet, but when he sees me, his stance relaxes. He says something I don’t understand.
‘Who are you?’ he says again, this time in Mandarin. It’s a bit accented, but I can make out his meaning well enough.
‘Where is the man who was staying here?’ I ask.
‘You mean the previous guest? He must have checked out. We arrived this morning.’
I glance wildly around, scanning the walls for blood smears, signs of struggle. Mr Lee was in no condition to get up, much less check out when I left him. What if the masked men returned for him? But the walls are pristine. Nothing seems out of order, apart from the two strangers in my hotelroom.
I bow my thanks and hurry to check Gigi’s room. I realise I’m still barefoot but that can’t be helped. There’s no rotted answer in her room either. Maybe they checked out together.
I visualise Big Wang’s terrace, and blink. The transition makes me pitch sideways as the terrace materialises around me. I fall to my knees, gagging, but manage to swallow down the nausea. It takes me a second before I can open my eyes. When I do, a beady yellow eye greets me, followed by an ear splittingCOCORUCOH.
I stare at it – it looks like the rooster from my bedroom. Yellow neck, orange breast, teal body. It’s back to its original size. I almost laugh, grateful that Big Wang fixed him, despite the Treasury disaster.
‘You are one lucky rooster,’ I say.
The creature clucks and stares as I search the terrace for Big Wang, Bullhead, and Horsey. The terrace is empty apart from the rooster and tortoises. Neither Horsey nor Bullhead are at their usual posts. The lights are off in Big Wang’s quarters. Where the rotted Hell is he? I need to know if Mr Lee is okay, and Big Wang was my best bet. I lean over the bannister, gazing out across yin Shanghai. It seems quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. Along the quay are the ferries, docking as normal, disgorging their passengers in one long line that is absorbed into the crowds of the Bund.
A small sampan is tied to the docks. Fisherman Lo. A flicker of hope lights inside me. Fisherman Lo will know. I consider blinking my way down there, but the risk of vomiting is too high. So I run to the lift, jabbing the call button. I pace as the lift makes its way to me, slow as the tortoises in Big Wang’s koi pond. When it finally arrives, I get in, push the lobby button and tap my foot as the lift descends gently and wholly incognisant of my urgency. The lift stops on the sixth floor, the doors yawning open to an empty lobby. I jab the close button, but the doors stay open for what feels like an eternity. Finally, they slide shut again, and the lift ponders downwards like an elderly gentleman expounding the virtues of the Shanghai hairy crab.
